


Hold On, My Darling

by duchessofthemoonbase



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: DamereyDaily2020, F/M, Fluff, Married Life, Post-War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-11
Updated: 2020-02-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:42:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22661932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/duchessofthemoonbase/pseuds/duchessofthemoonbase
Summary: Once upon a time, deep in the wild sands of Jakku, there was a girl who wanted nothing more than a best friend.
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Rey
Comments: 14
Kudos: 69
Collections: Damerey Daily 2020





	Hold On, My Darling

**Author's Note:**

> For Damerey Daily February Day 10
> 
> “I wish I were a girl again, half-savage and hardy, and free.” -Emily Bronte, Wuthering Heights

It’s been ten years, and Rey still seethes with envy sometimes about how _effortless_ it is for him.

She’s standing on the other side of the room, a glass of champagne in hand, watching from a distance as her husband works the room. It’s the anniversary of the First Order’s downfall, and people have flown in to their old base on Ajan Kloss from all across the galaxy to celebrate. He’s dressed in a black tux with an embroidered ascot, his hair and new beard now streaked with salt-and-pepper gray. There’s a crowd of people cautiously hovering on the edges of his conversation with Dr. Kalonia, waiting for a chance to break in. Everyone wants to talk to General Dameron—their leader, their pal, the man who remembers everyone’s favorite drink and the name of their droid.

But the quiet Jedi in the corner, the one some people are still a little bit afraid of? Not so much.

Rey winces as she walks to another table to grab more food. Her shoes are a nightmare, already forming blisters on the sides and backs of her feet, and her pink gown feels either too tight or too loose in all the wrong places. She always thought war was over when it was over—she hadn’t expected years and years of parties and politics, negotiations as everyone reorganized and built anew. It was exhausting in a way the war hadn’t been.

She felt a familiar hand brush against her own.

“Hey,” Poe said. “How are you holding up?”

“I’m fine,” Rey said, shrugging, and Poe looked at her skeptically.

“Want to get out of here?”

She smiled and took his arm. “Sure.”

They stepped away from the party and out into the humid atmosphere of Ajan Kloss, listening to the insects and birds sing in the evening air. Not including the mansion they had just walked out of, the place looked almost the same as it had a decade earlier.

Rey took off her heels with a grimace and let them swing in her hand. “I’m not good at this.”

“I know.”

“You _know?_ How supportive of you.”

Poe laughed. “I mean, you’re too special for…” he waved his hands towards the sounds coming from the party. “…all this. You’re too real. Too wise. These petty politics are for the rest of us.”

Rey smiled at her husband. “It’s just…not me…it’s not me at all.” She ran her hand over the bark of a tree, her eyes bright. “But here? Here I feel like me.”

Poe looked off into a distant clearing with a twinkle in his eye. “Lots of memories here, huh?”

Rey smiled. “We fought over there, didn’t we? After you light speed skipped the falcon.”

“Yup.”

“That was stupid of you.”

“So you once told me,” Poe teased, wrapping his arms behind her, and Rey smiled at the feeling of his beard tickling the back of her neck. “You always did tell me I was a difficult man.”

“I did.”

“And am I still?” Poe whispered, kissing her neck gently as he rocked her in his arms.

“ _Absolutely_.”

“And yet you still put up with me…”

“I fell in love with you,” Rey said, turning around and cradling her husband’s face in her hands. “I didn’t really have a choice.” She kissed him and they both became weak in the knees, collapsing into the grass and continuing to make out like teenagers.

Rey broke for breath and laughed. “If only they could see us now.”

“Who?”

“Us. Ten years ago. Hands all over each other, married with a baby. We would have been shocked.”

Poe laughs, and suddenly its like no time has passed at all: they’re still the hotshot pilot and the last Jedi, full of passion and conviction and unaware that they were falling for each other a little more every day.

The sounds of the party, the champagne and the idle chatter, are all muted in the distance as they lay on the grass under the stars; dirt staining their expensive clothes. She doesn’t want to go back in, and she has a childish urge to ditch the whole event without notice. To never wear heels or mingle with senators. A wish to be a girl again, half-savage and hardy, and free.

On Jakku, back when she _was_ that girl, she used to wish for a best friend. Someone to spot her as she climbed the wrecks of ships, someone to split her portions with, someone to explore and dare and run so fast with that it would feel like the world was just them and nothing else; twin suns locked in each other’s orbit, burning forever. A hand to hold.

Poe takes her hand under the soft light of the stars, and she tries to tell that wild girl of her past, tries to somehow sow the promise into her dreams— _hold on my darling, because one day—one day, you’ll find him._


End file.
